


Strobe Heights

by Yeomanrand



Series: Rand's Fic Promptly Fills [17]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint and Natasha friendship, Community: fic_promptly, Gen, Implied Pepper/Bruce/Tony, Minor Spoilers, POV Male Character, POV Third Person, Texting, heights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeomanrand/pseuds/Yeomanrand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Tony have a little chat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strobe Heights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afullmargin (anemptymargin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/gifts).



> See if you can find the "Text from last night" that was the original prompt. And there are minor spoilers for Agents of SHIELD which aren't spoilers at all if you've seen the trailer.

Clint has just settled in his nest at the top of the Avengers Tower when his phone beeps.

"Perfect timing, Tasha," he murmurs to himself, pulling it out.

He can tell the message isn't from Natasha before he even looks at the caller ID.

_Its a bunch of hippies dancing in front of a stobe light. For ten dollars I could have gone to the strip club and at least had a lap dance._

He blinks at the phone, looks out over the lights of New York, and looks back at the phone. Neither the words or the sender have changed.

_The hell are you telling me for?_

_Figured you were up. And I do mean UP._

Clint rolls his eyes; his phone beeps twice.

_Come on, Barton, I'm bored here. And per Fury I can't leave for another hour. I count at least three S.H.I.E.L.D. goons watching me, which means there's another six around here somewhere._

_Entertain me._

He shakes his head, leans back against the upright of the "A," the crossbar sturdy under his backside. 

_Hell with that, Stark. Below my pay grade._

_I'm sure you meant above._

_Hardly. Busy._

_How's my city looking?_

That earns a soft laugh. _Thought you were a Santa Monica boy._

_Adopted city, then._

Clint points the phone down at the ground and snaps a photo, sends it.

_Jesus, warn a guy. I think I threw up in my mouth a little._

_Poor baby. There's got to be someone else you can annoy._

_Banner'd better be sleeping, and I don't want to wake him or his anger management issues up._

_Pepper's awake, but she's in a meeting in Hong Kong and will, 'ship my testicles to the middle of the Sahara' if I pester her._

_Rhodey's doing War Machine things somewhere in the desert._

_Rogers has either "lost" his phone again or figured out how to shut it off._

_We both know Natasha's offline, and I'm sure my huevos would be in about as much danger with her as Pepper._

_JARVIS is in the middle of a reboot, and Dummy isn't programmed for comms. Who'm I forgetting?_

Clint pulls a bottle of water out of his stash, lets his leg dangle over the crossbar. _Thor?_

_Off-planet. Didn't forget him, anyway._

_Coulson?_ It's mean and he knows it is, because Tony doesn't know. Above his clearance level, which Clint has decided is all about Fury being a dick but hey -- not his problem.

The reply takes a few minutes.

_In the interest of group harmony, I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. And it's not like you're doing anything._

The phone beeps again while Clint's trying to figure out if he should bother answering Stark's last message.

_Anything other than waiting UP, I mean. For Natasha to check in. Think she will?_

_If she can._

Another long pause; Clint amuses himself by studying the pattern of the planes overhead, city noises carrying up to him like muted waves.

_So I want to say that sucks, you'll tell me it is what it is, and that's pretty much going to end this conversation. How can you even drop a conversation bomb over text?_

Clint shrugs to himself. _Don't know, but you keep managing._

The next message is a selfie of Tony Stark making a rude gesture.

_Not a chance. Even if your dance card wasn't full._

_Fair enough. I wouldn't want to see what happened if Banner got jealous, either._

_Banner, Hell. It's Pepper I wouldn't want to piss off. Hippies still dancing?_

_Nah, the party's starting to wind down. Finally._

_I'm sorry, but who is this, and how did you get hold of Tony Stark's phone?_

_Ha, ha._

Clint starts to put his phone away, figuring Tony'll consider that the last word, when it beeps again.

_Should have called yourself Night Owl, not Hawkeye._

_Taken._

_Are you on the fucking 'A' again? Do me a favor and go in so I don't have to fill out the paperwork explaining why you're street pizza._

_Never happen. Night, Stark._

_Night, Barton._


End file.
